


Flip Reverse

by unoriginal_liz



Category: Life with Derek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Never Met, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-12
Updated: 2009-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 04:52:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6224710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unoriginal_liz/pseuds/unoriginal_liz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So…what you're suggesting would be – a role play? Taking on the persona of a bad girl for a clearly marked period of time, and within clearly defined parameters? Hypothetically speaking."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flip Reverse

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt 'Derek/Casey - catholic schoolgirl'. Basically a 'What if Nora and George had never met? AU'

It all began with Ralph's girlfriend. Specifically, it began when Ralph's girlfriend's mom decided to ship her off to her dad in Toronto because Ralph bought her a bagel slicer for her birthday.

"Although, it probably wasn't the bagel slicer that did it," Sam noted. "More…her walking in on Amanda _thanking you_ for the bagel slicer."

Whatever had prompted Amanda's mom's sudden action, the fact remained – Amanda was now almost inaccessible, way out of walking range, and attending an all-girls private school where ninja nuns ferociously guarded her virtue. As Derek helpfully explained.

"Wow," Ralph said, considering Derek's words. "So _that's_ why they call them nunchucks."

"Yes," Derek said.

Sam closed his eyes. "Derek's exaggerating," he explained patiently. "There are no ninja nuns."

Derek disagreed. "Kind of a sweeping generalization there, don't you think?"

"I'm lost," Ralph obvioused.

Derek sighed. "We're saying – it's been two weeks, Ralph. It's time to forget Amanda, and move on."

"But I don't want to forget Amanda," Ralph said, furrowing his brow.

Derek turned to Sam. "I told you we should have stuck with the ninja nuns."

*****

And, devoid of fear for the ninja nuns, Ralph did _not_ forget Amanda. As a matter of fact, a couple of days later, he approached Sam and Derek with proof that absence didn't just make the heart grow fonder – it made the brain grow smarter. Because Ralph had a _plan_.

"You know what we should do this weekend?" he said. "We should drive to Toronto."

Derek and Sam blinked. "Why?" Derek asked.

"Because Amanda's in Toronto," Ralph explained.

Okay, it wasn't the _best_ plan in the world, but by Ralph standards? It was borderline amazing.

Of course, that didn't mean Derek was going to go along with it.

"Yeah…I meant why would _I_ go to Toronto?"

"Because I need you to drive me," Ralph said. "You have a car."

"Or something that resembles a car," Sam chimed in, with scrupulous honesty.

Derek narrowed his eyes at him. Even though he himself had described the Prince in much more unflattering terms pre-ownership, once the car had been passed on to him (a last ditch effort by his dad to help him finally pass his driving test) all such insults had ceased.

"Also, we can stay with your mom," Ralph said.

"Yeah, I can see why you _need_ me to do it. I just don't see a reason why I _should_ ," Derek said flatly.

"Amanda's friend is having a party," Ralph explained. With connect the dots reasoning, he added, "There will be girls there."

"There are girls here," Derek pointed out. "What's so special about these girls that makes them worth a two hour drive to Toronto?"

"They wear uniforms," Ralph said simply, displaying a touching faith in Derek's baser nature.

Faith that was amply rewarded, as Derek considered Ralph's words, then said, "Okay – let me call my mom."

*****

"You know you're welcome to stay anytime," his mom said, "But it won't be much fun for you. I'm spending the weekend redrafting a paper for the Marine Biological Association."

"Yeah, and that's why I thought I'd bring Sam and Ralph for company."

"Sam and Ralph – the plot sickens," his mom noted dryly. "Do I even want to know?"

"It'd probably be better if you didn't," he admitted.

His mom sighed.

*****

At the last minute, Sam cancelled. Apparently one definite date in the hand was worth an unspecified number of schoolgirls in the bush.

So Sam missed the inspiring sight that greeted them when they finally made it to the address Amanda had given Ralph. A girl in a school uniform (and not just any girl in a school uniform – a _hot_ girl in a school uniform, Derek's favorite kind) opened the door and asked, "Can I help you?"

"Most definitely," Derek said, slowly taking her in, from feet (she was wearing _kneesocks_ ), to skirt (short), to tie (loosely knotted over a white shirt). She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest.

"We're here for the party," Ralph said.

The girl looked blankly at him. "I'm sorry – you've got the wrong place," she said. "There's no party here."

Derek paused his appreciation of the X-rated fantasy in front of him long enough to register the empty hallway behind her, as well as the lack of general party-sights and sounds. And just like that, a horrible suspicion dawned in his mind. The suspicion grew when he looked at Ralph's face.

"You said there was a party," he accused.

"There is," Ralph said, looking shifty. Well, as shifty as Ralph was capable of looking – which wasn't very. "I mean, not a regular party, but" –

"Ralphie!" a voice shrieked, and a blonde blur suddenly pulled him inside. Derek followed, noting that Amanda was _not_ wearing a school uniform.

"You made it to our slumber party!"

" _Slumber_ party? The killer party we couldn't miss…is a _slumber party_?" Derek asked, turning on Ralph, as the girl who opened the door said, accusingly, "You invited boys?"

They traded irritated glances before turning back to Ralph and Amanda.

"Yeah," Ralph admitted, then offered, with impeccable Ralph non-logic, "But hey, it's still a party, right? Just…sleepier."

Derek glared. It wasn't that he was averse to attending a girls' slumber party – in fact, the idea had definite merit. But he couldn't see himself and Ralph getting parental permission to stay for any of the good parts (the pillow fights and sexual experimentation that late night TV insisted were part of every girly get-together)…thereby making it a complete bust.

"You didn't know? Vicky said it was okay," Amanda defended to the girl, who was still hot, but a hot now strongly shaded with 'pissed off'.

"Oh, she _did_ , did she?" the girl said grimly, then whirled around and yelled, "Vicky!"

A third girl appeared. "You screamed, Cuz? Oh hey," she said, as she took in Ralph and Derek. "You must be Ralph," she deduced, probably from the fact that Amanda was hanging off his arm. "Glad you could make it."

Even though she was dressed in jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt, as opposed to a costume straight from fantasy central, Derek smiled at her. Hot was hot, regardless of how it was dressed. She smiled back. "And you brought a friend – great!"

"Not great!" the uniformed girl insisted. "Not great at all! Remember what happened last time you invited random people over?"

Vicky rolled her eyes. "Chill out, Casey. There are only two of them and I doubt they're going to trash the place. Right guys?"

Ralph shook his head vigorously.

"Anyway, they're not random people. This is Amanda's boyfriend, Ralph, and this is…?"

"Derek," he supplied.

"Derek," she repeated, with a smirk. "Hi. I'm Victoria, and this is my cousin Casey. Nice to meet you."

"Yeah – nice to meet you, but now, you really have to go," Casey said firmly. She gestured towards the still open door.

Derek suddenly decided that uniform or no uniform, he should probably concentrate his energies on Vicky.

"Wow, Case, way to be hospitable," Vicky said. She rolled her eyes, then stepped past Casey and shut the door.

Casey didn't back down. "Your mom would kill you if she knew you were having boys over unsupervised. Especially after last time."

Okay – _unsupervised_? As in – _no parents_? This slumber party was sounding better and better by the second.

"Well, she's not _going_ to find out, is she? So there'll be no reason for her to get mad, will there?" Vicky said. "Come on, Cuz Case – don't be such a buzzkill. You know how much Amanda's been missing Ralph – so what's the big deal in letting them see each other for a while?"

Casey's disapproving stance softened a little, and Vicky pressed on, "I'm doing a _nice_ thing here. And hey, it all works out really well, because you can keep Derek company while Amanda and Ralphie catch up."

It wasn't that Derek had any objections to being kept company by a hot girl in a school uniform. Just – he'd prefer one that wasn't so uptight. But as his eyes lingered on Casey, he was struck by a sudden image of her shaking out her pulled back hair, neat shirt suddenly half untucked, and just like that, he decided that maybe Vicky hadn't had such a bad idea.

"Yeah – why don't you…show me around?" he said, and aimed the fabled Venturi smirk in Casey's direction. Unfortunately, she didn't blush or duck her head (which would have gone nicely with the uniform), or even smile shyly back. Instead, she stared back at him, eyes incredulous and faintly dismissive. Then she turned back to Vicky and asked suspiciously, "Why can't _you_ keep him company?"

Just then, the door opened, and a dark-haired guy stepped into the hallway. He raised his eyebrows and said, "Am I late?"

"Oh no," Casey said, glaring at Vicky. "No. _No_."

"No, you're not late, Truman," Vicky said. And if Derek thought she'd looked warmly at _him_ , it was nothing to the toasty-hot smile she launched in Truman's direction.

"Vicky – can I see you in the kitchen? Please?" Casey managed, through gritted teeth.

Vicky shrugged, then sauntered down the hallway, Casey following close behind.

Derek watched them go – and okay, Vicky was cute and all, but that kilt was _just_ short enough to rivet his eyes firmly on Casey. Well – parts of Casey.

He shook his head and snapped out of it long enough to notice that Truman apparently had the same problem. He didn't seem embarrassed by this at all though, and smirked conspiratorially at Derek. Then the girls disappeared into the kitchen, and, almost as one, the group followed them.

*****

" – and as the person your mom left in charge after last time, I'm saying, 'No Truman.'"

"And I told you, Truman explained about that, so chill out, Cuz," Vicky said, leaning back against the table, unconcerned.

"He _explained_?"

"I did," Truman interrupted, making Casey jump. "It was a really good explanation too."

"Well, whatever it was, I don't buy it," she said firmly.

"Well, I'm his girlfriend, and _I_ buy it, so really, it's none of your business, Case," Vicky said, with a smile that was a little hard around the edges.

Obviously sensing the danger in continuing down this avenue, Casey tried a different tack. "What about Archibald Lampman?" she said.

"Is that your boyfriend?" Amanda asked.

Casey looked at her. "No," she said. "Archibald Lampman? One of the so-called 'Confederate Poets'? Widely acknowledged as one of the most outstanding poets of his generation?" She paused but Amanda's face remained blank. "Remember – getting a jump start on that English essay? The whole reason we're having this sleepover in the first place?"

"Oh!" Amanda chirped brightly. "I thought you were lying so that Vicky's mom would let us stay over."

"Casey can't lie," Vicky said. "Which is why my mom trusts her so much." She grinned up at Truman and took hold of his arm. "Well – I think we're going to go study in my room. Have fun guys!"

"Vicky!" Casey yelped in horror.

"I promise – we're only going to work on our understanding of biology," Truman said, innocent tone of voice ruined by the quirk of his eyebrows. "And if you don't believe me, you're more than welcome to join us."

Casey made a face and an 'ugh' noise, then pulled Vicky aside. "Vicky, this is a really bad idea."

"Casey," Vicky said. "Seriously, butt out." Even though her voice was pleasant, it didn't mask the warning in her tone.

"Please, I want you to think about this. Really think about it," Casey pleaded in a low, urgent voice.

Vicky looked at her for a long moment, then stepped away and said, coolly, "Hey, Case, here's a thought for you. Maybe if you went out and got a life of your own, then you wouldn't have to worry so much about mine."

Casey blinked at her for a second, hurt flickering across her face. Then she whirled around and rushed out of the kitchen.

There was a silence.

"Do you think we should go after her?" Amanda asked finally, a little hesitant.

Vicky didn't answer for a second, half-frowning as she looked after Casey. Then the frown smoothed away, and she said, "No, we should probably let her cool down for a while."

"Well, in that case…" Truman hinted, tugging at her arm. Suddenly much more subdued, she let him lead her out of the kitchen.

Then it was just Amanda, Ralph and Derek. Amanda beamed at Ralph and said, "Want to watch some DVDs? I know you haven't seen ' _The Ghost Who Loved Me_.'"

"Sweet!" Ralph said, taking hold of her hand.

"Or!" Derek interrupted hastily, "We could go out for a while and _not_ watch…that."

"Dude," Ralph said, shaking his head in apparent disbelief at Derek's disinclination to watch what sounded like the grandmother of all chick flicks. "It's a _classic_."

*****

Derek lasted twenty minutes, right up until the point where the leading lady reached out to touch the 'ghost', only to pull back dramatically at the last second.

" _So it is true_ ," she whispered in a hushed tone. " _You really are a ghost!_ "

Derek rolled his eyes. The guy wasn't even see-through! He had a shadow!

" _But tell me this_ ," the woman exclaimed. " _Can a spirit such as yourself feel, as – as we humans do? Can you feel sorrow, anger, joy…love…?_ "

" _I can, madam_ ," the 'ghost' replied, staring intensely at her, " _Though there are times when I wish that I could not! If only I could touch you…my love!_ "

On the couch Ralph and Amanda gasped in unison, while Derek let his head fall against the back of the seat for one despairing second before he pushed himself to his feet.

He grabbed his leather jacket off the back of his chair, and shrugged into it. Then he said, gesturing vaguely, "I'm just going to…" before deciding it wasn't worth it, and just leaving. Ralph waved an absent hand at him, engrossed as the 'ghost' and the chick stared blankly at each other and the score soared.

Wandering the streets of Toronto for an hour or two seemed like a good trade-off for not watching any more of the movie. However, he hit a snag right away, as when he went to open the door, he discovered that it was locked. He made a frustrated sound, and looked wildly for the key.

It was nowhere to be found.

Just then, Ralph called out, "Hey D, where are you? You're missing the best part!"

"Yeah," Derek called back, injecting fake enthusiasm into his voice, as he wandered down the hallway. "I'll be right…over here," he finished in a lower voice, opening a door at random and closing it behind him. He rested against it for a second, before pulling back slightly and thumping his head repeatedly against it.

"What do _you_ want?" came a voice from behind him.

Derek turned around to find the school-uniform wearing girl, Casey, sitting on a double bed, leaning back on her hands and looking like a photoshoot for Naughty Thoughts Monthly. Well, except for the frown.

"The last few hours of my life back," he said, crossing over and sitting at the bottom of the bed.

She grimaced. "Let me guess, not exactly your idea of a good time either?"

"Not exactly," he agreed flatly. Their eyes met, a shared second of unspoken acknowledgement of just how much their respective evenings were sucking, before Casey looked away again.

He leaned back on his elbows and stared up at the ceiling while she sat up straight and fidgeted with the hem of her kilt.

"I just don't know what she sees in him," she said suddenly.

Derek flicked his eyes over at her. She was frowning and biting her lip, and had he mentioned the uniform?

"He's a bad boy," Derek said absently, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. "And speaking from experience…they get the girls."

She turned her head, and looked at him – tilted her head to the side and examined him in silence for several long seconds, and something inside Derek sat up and took notice – some kind of…supernatural sexth sense or something. His skin began to hum with possibility as he took everything in and realized that the ingredients of girl, bed and now, sexual tension were all mixing together to create an inevitable –

"I don't get it," Casey said, shattering the moment as she shook her head slowly.

Derek blinked at her.

"I mean – I could see it if she was stupid, but she's not. Vicky's a smart girl…usually, and she should see that" –

In spite of her words, she hadn't taken her eyes off him, and the zinging, over-sensitized feeling still prickled across his skin. Her chest was rising and falling more rapidly too.

So he interrupted. "Bad boy appeal knows no boundaries," he said cockily, gesturing towards himself. "As a matter of fact, appreciation of the bad boy is a force that unites the smart, the dumb, the hot…and the not."

"Oh please," Casey said raising her eyebrows. Then, challengingly, "And I still don't get it."

He didn't believe it. "Come on – haven't you ever wanted to live a little dangerously?"

"Living dangerously is just another way of saying, 'making bad choices.'"

He studied her for long enough that she began to shift uncomfortably. "Come on," he said again, voice lower, confidential, "you can't tell me that you've never wanted to be a bad girl."

Her eyes flicked away from his, giving away the lie behind her words, which were, "As far as I can see, being a 'bad girl' just leads down a road of spiraling grades and lowered self-esteem." She tipped her chin up, defiantly.

He tapped the fingers of his left hand against his thigh thoughtfully, and unconsciously, her eyes followed the movement, before snapping back to his face.

"Okay, maybe you wouldn't want to be a bad girl long term," he conceded. He paused for a second before recklessly plunging ahead. "But – what about a one night only type of deal?"

His words lay between them on the bed, almost like a physical entity.

Casey swallowed. "That's an…interesting hypothesis," she said carefully. "Care to elaborate?"

He blinked, mind suddenly blank. "Yeah, that – was kind of it."

She closed her eyes for a moment, exasperated. But when she opened her eyes again, she spoke in that same, cautious 'feeling things out' voice. Derek was willing to bet Casey didn't know the meaning of spontaneous.

"So…what you're suggesting would be – a role play? Taking on the persona of a bad girl for a clearly marked period of time, and within clearly defined parameters? Hypothetically speaking," she was quick to clarify.

"Something like that," he agreed. Even though they were only talking – not even flirting, or at least, not flirting in any way Derek was familiar with (and that was a shocker) he had the feeling that something between them was building, twisting and growing, slowly absorbing all the air in the room. He was suddenly very aware of the space between their bodies.

"That…could be interesting," she said finally, voice higher and slightly breathless. "Theoretically...I...guess."

Derek wet his suddenly dry lips, and went for it. "So…what do you say? One night only – no consequences?"

Finally laying it out there seemed to shock her and she recoiled a little. "I – no. No," she said. "I couldn't."

And that was it. Offer made – offer refused. Or…it should have been.

But inexplicably, Derek found himself saying, "You don't fool me."

She looked at him, startled.

"You've got everyone else fooled," he continued, not even knowing what he was saying, "Your friends, Cousin Vicky…maybe you've even got yourself fooled. But you don't fool me. I bet there's a bad girl inside you just…itching to get out."

She swallowed, and he suddenly realized that he actually believed it. And that even the thought of it was enough to make him hard.

With false bravado, she said, "And let me guess – you're just selflessly volunteering to help liberate that bad girl."

Her legs shifted on the bed, and his eyes followed the movement. "What can I say," he said, with fake earnestness. "I see a schoolgirl in need and I just…have to help. It's a compulsion."

She looked down at the bedspread, face unreadable. But just as he was about to give up, she looked right at him, and said, sounding...determined, "So - you want to show me how to live dangerously?"

Yes.

Yes to a degree that would have been almost embarrassing except for the fact that she was dressed up like Hot Cliché Fantasy Number One, and so he was entitled to a free pass on wanting her.

He leaned in towards her, close enough that he could smell her shampoo or perfume or maybe just her general girliness. It made his mouth water. "Just think of me as your very own, personal bad boy," he said, and closed his eyes as he leaned in further.

"But are you _really_?"

He opened his eyes. "What?" he asked, a little sharply, because hello? The talking portion of the evening should have been over…at least ten seconds ago.

"You say you're a bad boy – and you talk the talk…but do you slouch the slouch?" she asked, staring earnestly at him, voice a little too high.

"You're _casting_ me?" Derek said in disbelief. He closed his eyes. He was dead. That was the only logical explanation. He was dead and he was in hell because here was a hot girl, teasing him to the point of no return… _but not letting him touch her_.

"How do I know you're a real bad boy?" Casey asked, examining him through narrowed eyes. "For all I know, you could be a good boy in bad boy clothing!"

He stared at her. This was possibly the stupidest thing he'd ever heard – and he knew _Ralph_ , so he was intimately acquainted with stupid. "How do I know that you're a real schoolgirl?" he countered. "You could just be a girl wearing a school uniform for all I know."

"Would that even matter to you?" Casey asked, raising an eyebrow.

He tried to clamp his mouth closed, but it was no use – her eyes goaded him into the truth. "No," he admitted.

"Good," she said, sounding satisfied. "You pass the first test."

His eyes helplessly followed as she crossed her legs, and he wondered about the medical complications that were going to result from a severe case of sustained erection.

"I don't want to get ripped off by a bad boy wannabe," Casey explained. "I want the full, authentic experience."

"Believe me, you'll get it," he gritted out.

She licked her lips and stared at him. "Um…" she said, before shaking her head and collecting herself. "Steady girlfriend?"

"Steady _flow_ of girlfriends," he corrected.

"Grades?" she asked.

"Nothing higher than a D," he assured her.

"What about" – she began, only to stop when he put his hand on her knee.

"Are we going to do this, or not?" he asked, staring into her eyes, and sweeping his thumb across her skin.

Her breath hitched. "Well…let's say, for argument's sake – that I was one of those girls who could be talked into…doing something reckless. How would you persuade me?"

He slid his hand slowly up her leg and he leaned in so close to her that their lips were barely brushing, and he said, softly, "That's the thing. I don't think you'd need much persuading at all. I think all I'd have to do is show up."

But just as he was about to close the gap and kiss her properly, she pulled herself back a little. "Uh-uh," she said, slightly shakily, but with remarkable self-possession. "This isn't a school essay. You're going to have to put some actual effort in. You have to _convince me_."

His fingertips slipped just underneath her kilt, and her gasp was audible.

"No," he said consideringly. "I don't think I do." This time, she didn't pull back, and his lips were on hers, his tongue slipping inside her mouth. It was probably the delayed gratification of it – that plus the fact that ninety percent of the blood in his body was concentrated in one specific area – but even that, just kissing her, was unbelievably hot.

When he started moving down her neck, skin warm under his lips, she gasped out, "I'm a prefect." One hand made its way into his hair, while the other slid around his waist. She moaned as he opened his mouth and let his tongue trail across her skin. "I would take a lo- _ot_ of convincing."

She was a prefect? Every time he thought this just couldn't get any hotter…

"Sure, you'd want us to sneak around –" he allowed.

"I have to set a good example," she said breathlessly, fingers toying with the hem of his t-shirt, just grazing the skin under his navel.

"– but not because you have to set a good example," he contradicted. He nudged her, and she let herself fall back onto the bed willingly. He stared down at her and began to strip off his jacket. Suddenly, her fingers covered his and she said, "Leave it on." Her cheeks were pink, but her eyes met his defiantly. He smirked and shrugged his jacket back on.

Then he leaned down over her and whispered in her ear, "We'd sneak around because it would get you hot."

Her fingers curled around the front of his jacket, tugging him until his body was resting on top of hers.

He kissed her again, and let one hand slide under her shirt, cupping a breast through her bra. He couldn't stop himself from rocking his hips into hers as he felt her nipple harden – then he was kneeling up on the bed and unbuttoning her shirt with uncoordinated fingers. Her hands crept under his t-shirt and raked across his chest, and he rubbed himself off mindlessly against her thigh.

He pulled her shirt apart and stared down at her – hair disheveled, kilt riding up to reveal sensible white cotton panties, shirt unbuttoned and black tie hanging down between her breasts – and decided that he had probably moved beyond a healthy appreciation for the school uniform, to a full on _fetish_. He was hot, way too hot in his jacket, and as he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, he was almost certain he was going to have permanent zipper marks on his erection.

Casey moved restlessly on the bed, and her legs slid a little bit further apart. The combination of knee socks, bunched up kilt and underwear, in contrast with the smooth bare stretch of skin from knee to thigh, hit him like a kick to the stomach, and the air whooshed out of him soundlessly. Unsteadily, he lowered himself, and pressed his face against the soft hot skin of her stomach, before letting his tongue come out to flick into the indentation of her navel. The muscles of her stomach tightened and she made a noise he really wanted to hear again.

"Still worried about setting a good example?" he mumbled, eyes drinking in the expanses of skin laid bare for him.

"Not – not here," she gasped, fingers winding through his hair.

He moved lower, and she went very still.

"Not _anywhere_ ," he insisted, and ran a finger along the white cotton. "It makes you wet," he said, and touched his tongue to the damp spot on her panties. She whimpered, and that was it – he started mouthing her in earnest through her underwear, tongue working, making the fabric wetter, dragging it roughly against her sensitized skin. Her moans grew louder and faster, and blindly he reached down and worked his right hand into his boxers, palm open, giving himself something to rub against.

Then she gave this low, shuddering sigh that made him feel like a fingertip had been run down his spine, her back arched, and her thighs pressed warmly against the sides of his face. He gave one last lick and then she relaxed abruptly, legs falling apart once more.

He shoved his jeans and underwear down to his knees before awkwardly clambering on top of her again. Her hands slid up the back of his t-shirt, unsticking it from where heat and sweat had glued it to his body. Involuntarily he thrust against her thigh, and her fingers dug into his back. She buried her face in his neck, and feeling her breath ghosting against his burning skin made him shiver and thrust again.

"Derek," she said.

"Uh," he said vaguely.

"De _rek_ ," she repeated, more urgently. She pressed her teeth into his collarbone, and he had to grab himself and _squeeze_ hard to guard himself against sudden embarrassment.

" – want the authentic experience, I do," Casey babbled in his ear, "but not to the extent of the unplanned pregnancy, and the dropping out of school and the giving up of all my dreams and aspirations and – and I don't even know your second name!" she finished, finally out of breath.

He had to shake his head a couple of times before the meaning of what she was saying sank in, but when it did, he said, "I have – in my" – and he was fumbling through his pockets with shaky fingers and drawing out a condom.

Appropriate safety measures taken, he moved into position again, and this time, he couldn't stop the rocking of his hips, the need to bury himself inside her. He fumbled with her panties, too impatient to remove them even, fingers pulling the elastic to one side so he could finally push himself inside her.

He had to force himself to stop then, because he really wasn't looking to put the quick in quickie, and also because Casey's face had scrunched up in discomfort.

So he tried to distract himself from the fact that he was buried in the most perfectly tight, hot and wet place he could imagine, and that all he wanted to do was let go. Instead he carefully and slowly pulled out.

Cautiously, Casey placed her hands on his hips, and he asked, suddenly, "Would you let me do this in school?" before slowly pushing back in again.

"What?" she asked with a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

"Would you let me do this," he thrust again, a little harder this time, and her fingers pressed into his hips, "to you in school?"

"Are you – crazy?" she panted as he sank into her again.

"Come on," he said. "There has to be somewhere that – we could" –

"Behind the bike shed," she gasped, "sometimes girls – go there to smoke."

He leaned down and scraped his teeth down her neck, then murmured in her ear, "I'd do you behind the bike shed." It made his bones feel like they were melting just thinking about it.

She shook her head, cheekbone almost smacking against his nose in the process. "No," she disagreed, "We'd get caught."

He forced back a twinge of annoyance that she couldn't just _go_ with the fantasy.

"I'm – " he bit his lip to hold back a groan, "Derek Venturi. I don't – get caught."

"But the teachers – make regular patrols," she insisted.

Unbidden, a new image popped into his head, and he said, "We'll have to be quick then. Because I wouldn't stop," his hips thrust hard and fast, panty elastic scraping against him as he slid inside her, and he continued, "I'd just keep fucking you."

She made a strange choked noise at this, and her fists bunched in his jacket – and despite his overwhelming aversion to PDAs he thought he might actually be telling the truth.

It was this that did it for him, the thought of everyone – students, teachers, ninja nuns – watching, and Casey (uptight, dismissive, set-a-good-example Casey) not caring, _letting_ him, _begging_ him to keep going. He groaned, and with one last lush, _perfect_ thrust, he let go.

*****

There was a name for this kind of after-glow killer, and that name – was Ralph. "D? Derek? Where are you, man?" he called from the hallway.

Derek moved away from Casey, his skin suddenly cold where it was no longer touching hers. "Yeah, I'll – give me a minute!" he yelled, scrambling to his feet and pulling up his pants.

Casey sat up and began buttoning up and straightening, and he fought a strong urge to lean over and mess her up again.

There was a sudden, awkward silence.

"Well," Casey said, uncomfortably. "That was – that was…interesting." And she nodded at him as if he had just delivered a lecture on something educational. He stared at her, and a flush spread across her face.

"Shouldn't you…?" she said, tilting her head at the door.

"Yeah," he said, still staring. "Yeah." He didn't move.

"So…" she said, and trailed off.

"So," he echoed. "Ralph's really serious about Amanda." He blinked. He hadn't meant to say that.

"Oh?" Casey said politely.

"Yeah," he said, and cleared his throat, attempting casual. "So, he's probably going to want to see her as much as he can."

"Oh," Casey repeated, nodding wisely.

"And I have a car, so…I might be – that is, I'll probably…see you around," he said, trying to shape words with a mouth that seemed to have forgotten how.

" _Oh_ ," she said again, but like she finally understood. "Yeah. I guess I'll…see you around, then."

A small smile worked its way across her face. It wasn't anything like a bad girl smirk – too soft and shy…but Derek liked it all the same.

*****

As they made their way to his mom's house, Derek casually suggested that they could probably make the Toronto round trip next weekend too.

"Really?" Ralph said, twisting around in his seat and staring at Derek with a mixture of surprise and delight, like a dog who had been given an unexpected treat. " _Dude_!"

Derek shrugged.

"You're the best, man," Ralph said warmly. "Awesome." He stopped and laid a hand on Derek's shoulder. With great sincerity, he said, "I really hope that one day, you'll find a girl you want to buy bagel slicers for."


End file.
